Land of the Midnight Sun
by swishyswishygoesemilythefishy
Summary: Lieutenant Duckling AU: Emma swan, who's studying for her bachelor's in marine science, has been offered an internship under the wing of Dr. David Nolan at the University of Alaska. Due to a twist of fate, she keeps running into Lieutenant Kilian Jones of the Coast Guard.
1. Prologue

Clothes lay strewn all about the quaint little room, and they all seemed to gravitate towards the cherry piece of luggage on the full-sized bed. Various shoes, goods, and an immaculate pair of leather hiking books graced the floor; posing as a threat for the blonde trying to navigate the quarter. Her favorite vermilion leather jacket was among the things that had accumulated in a pile. Emma Swan licked her lips as she ran off her list in her mind. _Toiletries? Check. Makeup and accessories? Packed. Clothes? Sort of. Boarding pass and passport? Somewhere. _Neal popped his head in the doorway, a look of perplexion on his face, and continued on the the kitchen. Emma and Neal shared a two-bedroom apartment in Tallahassee, Florida. She prefered to keep it modest and private, much to his grumbling dismay.

Majoring in marine sciences at Florida State University, Emma had been ecstatic at the chance to intern at the University of Alaska in Juneau. She would be along side leading scientists, assisting them in research during the summer. This was a pipe-dream of an opportunity; one which she would not turn down. Neal wasn't exactly thrilled at the concept, and had insisted he came with to protect her from the "wild brutes" of the territory. But the simple fact was that he couldn't afford the airfare and boarding. Neither could Emma; she was only able to do so because of the scholarships and incentives from the university.

She would leave the next morning, and she still had plenty of packing to do. In haste she packed her lingerie, toilettes, cosmetics, and pajamas. For the heck of it, she even packed three cocktail dresses and a pair of killer pumps. Emma left out for the next day her leather jacket, mukluks, and a sensible outfit for the thirteen hour flight. With her luggage sorted out, she ventured to the kitchen to join Neal for dinner. He had prepared two sandwiches and a pot of Ramen; the staple of college kids. He was a bit older than she, and he was going to graduate the next year with his bachelor's degree in economics. Emma however was only one year into college, and still had heaps to go.

Dinner conversation was light, and mostly filled with the sounds of chewing. At one point, Neal inquired, "So you're really gonna go? For the whole summer?"

She replied, "Yeah, I am. It's an amazing opportunity for me, and I've always dreamed of going to Alaska. Juneau sounds like a marine haven." She shifted uncomfortably as she looked at the promise gleaming on her finger.

"Alright," Neal soughed, "just remember where your home is, and who's waiting for you when you return."


	2. Chapter One

Emma breathed a sigh of deep contentment. Her two months in Juneau had been pure and unadulterated bliss. She had been supervised by a man of the name David Nolan who, a along with a PHD in biological oceanography and sassy attitude, headed the Marine Sciences department of the University of Alaska's Juneau branch. Not to mention he had boarded her for little to nothing. Emma, who had become absorbed in the observation and data collection of the incredulous ecosystem, had barely given it a second thought when accepting David's offer to become his permanent intern, and to enroll at the university under full scholarship. Only after glancing down at the diamond encrusted in silver did she realize that would require moving to Juneau, and there was a possibility that Neal wouldn't leave Tallahassee. This distressed Emma, because she knew that her heart now belonged to the world she had become a part of, and there was no way she would leave it behind. With or without Neal.

After the day's work was complete, David drove Emma and himself to his enchanting, four-bedroom chateau that was twenty minutes out of Juneau. Not to mention, the rustic villa was secluded and on the edge of Fitz Cove. His wife Mary Margaret caught sight of the headlights through the kitchen window and scrambled out of the house to greet her husband, like she did everyday. She was about three months pregnant, so she wasn't exactly at the waddling stage as of yet. After greeting her husband, she strode to Emma and greeted her. They were ushered into the home, and Emma could smell the aroma of venison stew from the foyer. Mixed in with it was the redolence of fresh paint. In anticipation of their baby, the couple, though mostly Mary Margaret, had started to prepare the fourth bedroom. The table had already been set, and the brewing supper smelled delightful.

The couple, as if they hadn't seen each other in weeks talked vivaciously throughout the whole meal. Emma quietly pondered if Neal would in fact make the move. Logic told her _no_, he had a year before he finished college with a promising future, but the little voice in her mind told her, _he loves you, so why wouldn't he? _She knew it was selfish, and that made it hard to justify. Mary Margaret noticed her vexed complexion, and dared to ask what was wrong.

Emma replied sotto voce, "Mrs. Blanchard, I'm not sure if my fiancé will move to Juneau if I do."

Mary Margaret countered, "Of course he will dear! If he truly loves you, I can't see why he wouldn't. That's what true love is."

Emma wasn't thoroughly convinced, but she nodded and decided it wasn't best to pursue the subject with a woman who believed in true love and other fairytale subjects. After all, why induce a panic attack when she could just ask him himself? Emma finished her stew, complimented Mary Margaret on her excellent meal, and excused herself. After putting away her bowl and silverware, she retreated to her little room. It was quite nice with chartreuse walls and maple flooring. On her cell phone, she dialed Neal. It rang three times. She was about to give up on reaching him, to which her anxious stomach was glad, when a female voice picked up.

"Hello?" She heard in a slight twang.

Her stomach dropped to the floor, and it required all she had to press on. "Yes, I'm Neal Cassidy's fiancé. And I'd like to talk to him." She could feel the perplexion of the young girl, and added with force, "Now." It was a second before she heard the discord of the phone being pressed against the girls body. _Probably a little freshman, _she thought to herself, and then came to the realization, _so was I. _

Though muffled, she heard the conversation ensue.

"Neal?"  
"Yes, babe?"  
"There's someone on the phone for you, it's your," she stutters,"fiancé."

After that, she presumably heard Neal walk in from another room and curse under his breath. At that point, her composure was disintegrating and she fell onto her bed. Her palms were shaking before her, and she knew the tears would free themselves in less than a minute.

"Hey babe, listen, she's no-" Neal began to rationalize himself to Emma, but she wasn't going to have any of it.

"We're over, Neal. I'm moving to Alaska." That was the end of the conversation, and Emma finalized it by ending the call. She needed a release, and she needed it now. Promising herself she could cry her broken heart out in five minutes, Emma popped her head out of her room to face David and Mary, who were curled up watching a movie. "Hey, Mr. Nolan, may I borrow the fishing skiff?"

"Sure," he answered casually, "I don't see why not. Just remember to bring gas." His attention was once again on Mary Margaret and the cinematic production in front of him. He wouldn't remember to check if she indeed brought extra gasoline.

Emma snatched her jacket and calmly strolled out the rear door, but not before placing the ring on her bedside table. Once she was out of the couple's sight, however, she made a mad dash for the dock. Her lofty strides landed her beside the small fishing skiff elevated above the water in no time. She threw her jacket in, and stepped inside. Lowering the vessel took an agonizing amount of time, and Emma began to stomp her foot, vocalizing her impatience. After an eternity, Emma released the clips, and thrusted the throttle to full speed.

* * *

The arctic wind whipped through her auriferous hair, and the tears she had been holding back finally escaped. They fled as prisoners of war, and were so plentiful, she had trouble perceiving where she was. She veered out of Smugglers Cove, and tore up the seaway between Douglas Island and Funter Bay State Marine Park. Game soared above Emma, and she felt the tension ease out of her as she neared Young Bay. There was even a chance, she hoped, that she might see Regina or Henry her calf; two of the orcas she'd grown to love while researching during the summer. Emma's astriction was melting away, and she began to feel at home on the somewhat open sea. Much more than she ever had in Tallahassee. Bounding on the rolling waves felt unmarred, and it was about two hours before sunset.

Without warning, the engine began to sputter an awful noise, and Emma's anxiety returned. _What had David told me? Oh shit. I forgot the gasoline. _The skiff went from blinding speeds to that of a sea cucumber. She realized she couldn't help herself now, and called into the coast guard. "Mayday, mayday, this is Emma Swan, I've run out of gasoline on a Carolina Sea Skiff, in Stephens Passage. Coordinates 58.230875, -134.661949. Heading southeast towards Young Bay. Do you read?"

A young man with a slight brogue replied, "I read you. I'm about three miles away on a patrol boat. I will be there in fifteen. Can you anchor?."

"Yeah, I can try."

"Okay miss, just remain calm, there's no need to panic," he replied. Obviously his coaxing was a habit of training, to keep young women and the likes calm so that they didn't do anything stupid. But Emma practically had lived her life on fishing charters and deep-sea liners.

Cheekily, she radioed back, "I'll try my best, sir." After she tossed the sea anchor overboard, she collapsed on the bench behind the steering wheel. Sobs came freely again, and there was no point in holding them back. After all, her heart was in shambles and her only liberation was sputtering to an eternal rest. She glanced up and turned off the engine. The only sonance that could be heard was the occasional cry of a bird or melodic sloshing of the swells.

* * *

Some ten minutes later, between muffled sobs, she saw a grey vessel rushing towards her on the briny deep. It still had a mile before it reached her, but she began to dry her tears with her t-shirt. The boat was nearing now, and she could see a young man, presumptively the one she spoke with, at the helm. He eased off the throttle, and turned off the engine. Lackadaisically he anchored and paced starboard to face her.

"Aye lass, you seem in quite a pickle," motioning to her powerless craft, "Good thing Lieutenant Killian Jones has arrived." He did a quick little salute, and laughed a hearty guffaw.

Emma faced him without expression, and stood from her bench. "I've run out of gas, and I need to get back..back.." She wasn't sure what the word she was looking for was. Her temporary residence wasn't home, but neither was Tallahassee. It was a place with the basic necessities, and not much more. "To my professor's chateau; it's his boat."

"Well lass, I'm only authorized to tow only in emergency situations. But seeing that I'm here now, and you look pretty distressed to me, I'll bring you on in. Plus, it would be a bloody shame if I just let you drift, and didn't get a phone number off of you," he flicked his eyebrows at the last line, and reached to his right to pick up a towing cable. He hopped down onto the skiff gracefully, and secured the cable onto the bow. The lieutenant hoisted himself back onto the patrol boat, and offered his hand to Emma.

"Care to join me for some hot cocoa, miss?"

"I'd rather stay on my ship."

"Well I'm sad to inform you, but remaining in a vessel that's being towed isn't exactly safe, and I'm all about safety, ma'am;" his brogue creeping into conversation once more while they spoke. He extended his hand farther, and Emma took it with reservation.

"Fine, _sir._"

* * *

"Now lass, be prepared to taste sans pareil hot cocoa; unparalleled by any other milk product you've ever experienced," he said as he poured the liquid into two ceramic mugs. The Lieutenant reached for whipped cream and cinnamon, surprising Emma one would have such a thing on stock.

"Well _someone _sounds enthusiastic about their beverages. I guess that would explain why you have whipped cream and cinnamon on a Coast Guard patrol boat." She felt her strength returning, and her inner spunk kicking in. "I'll be severely disappointed if this doesn't hold up to your little speech."

"It provides a little piece of home, you know?" He swiftly placed the mug in front of her, and paced back to the helm, cocoa in hand. As she brought the beverage to her lips, he smiled ear to ear. Immediately after tasting, she breathed a sigh of deep contentment. She was feeling toasty and pleasant inside.

Moments passed, and the Lieutenant offered conversation. "So if you don't mind my asking, what were you doing out in the bay? You had neither fishing gear, nor equipment of any kind, and were stuck without gasoline," he uttered, meeting her gaze across the way. Emma grew uncomfortable, but held fast. She didn't have to tell him her story if she didn't want to, and she wouldn't. The aroma of cinnamon drifted through the bridge, and small swells caused the patrol boat to rock a bit. Killian sensed he wasn't going to get much out of her, so he proceeded.  
"Though I guess if you _were _a drug dealer, you'd have to be extremely stupid to forget your gasoline, and then call the _Coast Guard _of all people you'd be better off paying the $300 towing fee from a commercial company_. _But I'm getting the idea that you're not lacking intelligence." Silence. "Well this is becoming a tad inopportune." Still silence from Emma's side. "How about your address?"

"You wanted my number, and now you want my address? _Totally _not raising any red flags there, Captain."

"Love, you forget that I'm a United States Coast Guard _Lieutenant, _and that I'm assisting you out of the good in my heart." The man motioned to his heart, and tapped it lightly. He then proceeded to pout with puppy-dog eyes."

"Are you attempting to smolder me out of my pants?" It was Emma's turn to place her hand on her chest and feign surprise, "Because I'm sure I can find a frying pan somewhere around here."

"It's alright ma'am, I have no intentions of acting dishonorably. But if _you _had plans of such things, I'd expect you to take me to dinner first." He paused to motion to navigation equipment, "Though in all honesty I need to input your address into the GPS. You want to get back, don't you?"

"Yes Lieutenant, that would be much appreciated."

* * *

They glided into Auke Bay at a mild pace. Orange and red bounced on the water with dazzling grace while the wake refracted the evening sun. Emma had left the Lieutenant on the bridge, and wandered to the bow of the ship. The frosty air made her skin tingle, and coming up she could see the Nolan's lovely home. As if on cue, the ship adjusted its course to the right, towards the home. Behind the patrol boat, the little skiff rode the wake and the sun drooped lower on the horizon. Emma moved towards the stern of the boat, and prepared to disembark. The engine slowed to a plodding pace, and the lieutenant swung the vessel perpendicular to the Nolan's dock. Upon the appearance of the patrol boat, David rushed out of the home and onto the dock.

"What the hell? Emma what happened? Are you okay?" David hurried over towards her, and nearly tripped in the process.

"Yeah, I just forgot to bring gas. I ran out near Young Bay. My bad."

The young man emerged from the helm, hopped down, and untied the skiff. He then proceeded to lead it towards the dock, where he tied it.  
"Here's your skiff Mr…."

"Nolan. Mr. David Nolan," he introduced himself and shook hands with the lieutenant, "and thank you so much for bringing her home safe and sound. I appreciate it a great deal."

"It was my pleasure, sir." he said as he scrambled back on board the patrol boat. He then scribbled onto a napkin something and handed it to Emma.  
"G'day beautiful." He simultaneously saluted and winked, and then proceeded to leave Auke Bay.

Emma inspected the napkin to see what he had written on the inside.

" _Lt. Killian Jones_

_call me sometime_

_907-204-0322 "_

* * *

_Author's note: I am so, so, so sorry I haven't updated in 27 days... which is awkward because this is the first chapter, and the prologue was like 400 words. As a writer, I've been working on detail and length, so I'm sorry that it took so long. I promise I was working on it a bunch, but I had school work and exams. Good thing it's summer now, so ideally I'll have more time._

_Also, in case you're wondering- certain things like the area code, Auke Bay, the marine park, etc.- are actual, specific things from the Juneau area. (That might've been a run on oops) So anyways thank you so much, and I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. _


	3. Chapter Two

_Warning: For those who are sensitive, Emma is harassed just a bit early in this chapter, so I'm sorry if that's a problem! You'll miss some of the story line, but I'll bold the first and last word for you. :)_

* * *

_Two months later_

The music wasn't pounding, but the cacophony was full enough to wake the dead. Some alternative medley was roaring through the upstairs room of the Viking Lounge, and Emma was stomping away on the dance floor with her fellow classmates Ariel Andersen and Titania Green, or as she liked to be addressed, "Tink." Ariel was majoring in marine sciences like Emma, but was minoring in vocal performance. Tink herself was majoring in mechanical engineering. Ariel invited Emma to join Tink and herself that Saturday night, after having met her in their coastal oceanography class. Emma held a glass in her hand, but most of the actual drink was enjoying company with the floor. She hadn't felt so alive in weeks, and she couldn't tell if it was the music, the alcohol, or the feeling of freedom. The bass of the music was resonant, and she swayed to it. Every now and then Emma would catch a glimpse of Ariel and Tink bobbing with the crowd.

**Some** unknown body rammed Emma forward, and the rest of her drink found itself on the club floor. A curse flew from her lips, but the person responsible turned to face her. "Well, I am sure glad I bumped into you," he rasped in an unrefined way, looking her up and down. He gave a deep cat-call, but she was already heading towards the bar. "Hey, come back over here!"

Emma sobered up and quickened her pace. Like a knight in shining-plaid armor, she noticed Killian Jones sitting at the bar. She rushed over to him, and pleaded into his ear. "Please, there's a man coming this way." Killian stood almost immediately, and turned to find a burley man making his way towards Emma with lust in his eyes. She inched behind him, with fear evident in her features. He could feel her tremble behind him, and offered a hand to hold. Killian sized him up to be 6' 3", incredibly toned, roughly late thirties, and with the look of a man not afraid to take what he wants. Emma's grip on his hand tightened, and he squeezed back.

"Step aside," the man said once he closed the distance.

"Do we have a problem here? Maybe we can work it out." Killian, ever the diplomat, spoke calmly.

"We will if you don't move. This is between the girl and I." Anger edged in his voice, and his stare was burning holes into Emma.

"You see, I can't do that. I'm a Coast Guard Lieutenant, and I'm _very _familiar with the law. At the very least, what you're doing is harassment," he asserted. "I think you should leave now."

"I'm fine staying right here." The man said this in a menacing tone, and deliberately cracked his** knuckles**.

"Well you see sir, I'd love to brawl it out over the lovely lady, but that's not going to happen. You should just move along, and not risk getting kicked out of this lovely establishment." The man must have had the brains the size of a pebble, because he hooked right at Killian's jawline. Only, it didn't connect because Killian caught the fist midair, and crushed it with impossible strength. The man's face was struck with horror, but Killian's was empty. "Now, that ought to teach you a lesson not to prey on women." He squeezed, and then released much to the relief of the brawny man. "If you would..." Killian motioned to the distance, and Emma eased. He turned towards her, and examined her grip. "Love, my hand's turning white, and I'm quite sure I'm not naturally _that _pale."

She let out an uneasy laugh, and withdrew her hand. "Thank you for that.. I didn't know that guy, and I never want to."

"It's my pleasure to keep a woman safe from those who would wish to do her harm," Killian smiled warmly, and turned to the bar. "Though it's bad form, I'm going to ignore the fact that you're most likely underage," he whispered close to her ear, warm breath tingling her cheek, "So. What would the lovely lady like to drink?

"I'll have a hard cinnamon cider," Emma shyly told the bartender.

"Lovely. And here I thought I'd never see you again. What a shame that would have been, because you cut quite the figure in that dress." Emma blushed a profuse crimson, similar to the garment she wore. "That'll be on me, Sir," Killian reminded the bartender.

* * *

Once the bartender handed Emma her cider, she nursed it savoringly . A familiar tone signaled that someone was calling, and she drudgingly intended to go answer it. "Thank you for the drink, Killian, and thank you so much for stopping that man" she said, and then left the barstool with the other half.

"It was my pleasure, darling."

Apparently tonight really wasn't her night, though, because as she was walking away and pulling out her phone, her pump caught something and set her on a collision course with the floor. Killian stood to stop her from falling, but wasn't in a position to help. Emma attempted to brace herself, but unfortunately the hand she chose had glass in it, and she cut herself deep upon impact. Amid the discourse of the lounge, no one thought anything of Emma other than she might've have had too much to drink. Now itching to get up, she could see the blood wanting to pour out of her hand. Emma groaned in dismay, and Killian pulled her up.

Once she was up, Killian inspected her; "Love, you need to get that fixed up right now. I have a kit in my truck… care to come outside?"

Emma looked at her hand. It was vulnerable to any and all infections unless it was cleaned; bars weren't renowned for being clean places. After all, the Lieutenant was preferable to HIV, and had already helped her twice. "Yeah, please."

Killian led her through the wild mess of college kids and adults by her unwounded hand. Emma held the other close to her, and tried to find Tink and Ariel with her eyes. She was unsuccessful and figured she would just text them after. Once outside, the frosty, September air bit into Emma's skin. Moving to Alaska had put her on a tight budget, and Tink had loaned her a classy jacket for the night, which she left in Ariel's car before they entered. She recalled the brief conversation: "_Oh hun, I am not letting you walk into a lounge with a down coat in September, nuh uh, Tink has got you covered." _ Killian led her to a onyx Chevrolet Silverado, which unlocked with a small sound and flash. The sun had already set, and twilight cast Mount Juneau in a mauve glow. Killian ran ahead to lower the tailgate, place a blanket down, and sprinted back across the gravel to carry Emma. She didn't understand, and at first refused.  
"Lieutenant, I can walk myself, only my hand is injured."

"It's Killian, love. And plus, stilettos and gravel aren't a happy match. At this rate, you'll injure more than your hand."

With a huff, Emma obliged, and Killian scooped her into his solid arms. Blood was dribbling down her forearm now and onto her dress; the original cut was stinging like a bitch as her body released an innate immune response. This caused her to hiss, and Killian quickened his pace. At the Silverado, Killian placed Emma on the folded blanket, and placed another around her shoulders. Walking around to the side hatch, he pulled out a rather large first aid kit, and a stoppered bottle. Diligently he uncorked the bottle, lightly rinsed his hands, and then doused Emma's hand with it. Shocked at the sudden hike in pain, she stifled a scream and exclaimed, "AH! What the hell is that?"

"It's rum, and a bloody waste of it," he joked, and inspected her hand for glass fragments. "Lucky for you, lass, there's no glass in here. Now that the cut's disinfected, courtesy of my friend, I've gotta wrap it, okay?" Killian looked up for her approval, and she gave him a curt nod. He ripped open four bandage pads, placed them on her palm, and wound gauze around the hand. He secured it, and inspected his handiwork. "Now lass, here are two acetaminophens, and with any luck you won't need stitches. Would you like a ride home?

"I wouldn't want to abuse your kindness…."

"No it's completely fine. I wouldn't want you hanging around with your hand in that state, not after what already happened. I'm on my way home anyways."

"But I barely know you and it wouldn't be smart-"

"Shh, it's alright. I'm not going to hurt you. Call Mr. Nolan and let him know the Coast Guard Lieutenant will be dropping you off within the half hour. But first, let me get the rest of this blood off of you." Killian nabbed another piece of gauze, poured some more alcohol on it, and lightly dabbed Emma's skin. He started at her wrist, and tenderly moved to her forearm and elbow. Under his gentle hand, the blood transferred from her skin to the bandage. Killian delicately held her limb, and Emma could only stare into his focused eyes. In the mulberry light, they seemed to be ultramarine. She broke her trance and heard two giggling girls walk out of the Viking Lounge.

"Emma, is that you?" Tink asked.

"Yeah! I'm heading home with Killian here!"

"Oooooh, Killy! Wait, what's with your hand? It was fine before.." Ariel commented.

"It's a long story, I'll tell it to you over the phone. Thanks for bringing me along!"

"Alright! Bye Emma, bye Killy!" Tink shouted from a distance.

The two girls jumped inside of Ariel's 2007 Mustang, and drove off towards the university campus. Killian then lifted Emma, and set her gently in the passenger's side. Killian ran around, closed the tailgate, and then put the keys in the ignition. Emma was curious as to the fact that they knew each other, though she really shouldn't be. "Killy?"

He scratched behind his ear, while answering, "Yeah.. we all grew up together."

* * *

Emma retrieved her cell phone, and called david to let him know Killian Jones, not Ariel, would be bringing her home. After, she then checked her recent calls to see if her injured hand was really worth it. Turns out it wasn't, as it was neal. Despite what her gut told her, she listened to the voicemail that he left. It was a slurry mess of loud music and crappy apologies asking her to move back. _Yeah, like that's ever going to happen. _After the couple had made the move to Tallahassee, she slowly grew to hold the city in contempt. It felt like a prison of stone. Emma turned to face the land cloaked itself in darkness, ignoring the occasional glance Killian sent her way. She pulled the fleece around her shoulders tighter, and wished to be in her room, alone. She stayed quiet for several minutes until Killian picked up on the uneasy atmosphere.

"You alright darling,?" Killian asked her with a soft voice.

Emma, stirred out of her little reprieve, answered minimally. "Mhhmm. I'm fine."

"Is it the man at the bar?"

"No," she answered curtly.

"It's a past boyfriend, isn't it."She turned to him in shock. _How on earth could he have guessed? _"Love, I don't mean to offend you, but you're somewhat of an open book. It was him, too, when I towed you in, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was. How'd you know?

"Well the red, puffy eyes were my first clue.

Emma chuckled a slight bit to hide her embarrassment. "I was that bad?"

"Naahh, you were alright. But look at the bright side, if your heart can be broken, that means it works." She eased in her seat, and slowly breathed out her tension. Evergreen trees melted away in the background, and stars shone through the eerie black sky. As much as it hurt without Neal, she now had a bit of hope. Kilian had reminded her that her heart still functions, and maybe it could find love again. A love that would last. "So, since we're bound to run into each other again at some point, how would you like to run into each other at The Viking Lounge next saturday? My band, The Enemies, will be playing a few songs live. I could pick you up, if you wanted."

"I-," Emma stopped and thought about the opportunity Killian was giving her, the chance to start over with a nice guy. There were no strings attached, and if she was disappointed, she could end it.

"Sure. What time."

"Is six fine?"

"Six is perfect."

* * *

_Author's note: Alright five things (I'm lazy and use bulleted notes)_

_•If you can pick out all the little easter eggs, I like you. :) _

_•Ironically, I got glass in my hand just a bit ago and I'll tell you, that shit really hurts; it doesn't go away._

_•I apologize I'm such a meanie and take forever to write_

_•I was about to make the chapter longer, but couldn't find a place to end, so ready your pitch forks, but please don't break anything while you storm the castle_

_•If you would, please leave a review, and let me know how I'm doing! __Constructive __criticism is welcome; there's always room to improve. _

_P.S. I'm sorry if you got a notification that I updated last night. I was trying to get it out before I slept, but the formatting was all wrong and I wanted to wait until the morning to fix it. My apologies about that, it should be better now! _


End file.
